


When Your Heart Was a Hollow Drum

by mermani



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2018-01-04 19:25:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1084820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mermani/pseuds/mermani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Korra's never really been good with the subtleties.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Your Heart Was a Hollow Drum

**Author's Note:**

> Set some time in the middle of the first season, after Tahno's bending is taken away and before Korra gets kidnapped. Unbeta'd, so be warned.

She's distracted.

There's Amon to worry about – people's _bending_ is being taken away – and Tarrlok is taking control of the Council more quickly than even the Avatar can stop.

So, as most things do, it happens when she isn't looking.

Korra's never really been good with subtleties.

-

“I don't know what I'm doing,” she says. It is a whisper, really, and Bolin is still laughing at something that Mako's said and Asami is still gazing at him with eyes like luminescent gems, and it stays a whisper. 

Still, it makes her feel better.

Even though nobody can hear her. 

Korra sighs. Sinks into her seat.

Mako glances at her but doesn't smile.

-

Tenzin sends her into the city for something – she can't remember what it is; it matters now that she's here, staring at the shopfronts like she's lost – because Pema is pregnant and Tenzin is _busy_ , she guesses, and that means she's necessary. She doesn't really want babies, watching them. It's selfish and stupid (so stupid), but she doesn't want to be fat and bloated and helpless. 

She wouldn't be able to sleep on her stomach, either.

A car drives by quickly, tires squealing. Korra nearly jumps out of her skin. Her boots skid on the sidewalk as she steadies herself. She looks up and sees a man walking out of the building next to her. His head is down and his posture is hunched, but he is undeniably familiar.

“ _Tahno_?” It is a whisper, too, and a sudden one in the silence that she barely hears herself, but he looks up from the ground and those eyes are empty and heavy like sinking stones in his face, but it's still _him_. Tahno. Obviously. 

She remembers now that she's looking for eggs – now, when she no longer cares. It figures.

He is standing in the doorway just in front of her, half-in and half-out. The light falls on his face so that he is beautiful as she looks at him.

“ _Uh_ -vatar,” he says. It sounds sort of funny now. Childish, almost. Her hair is itchy against the back of her neck and she is suddenly so, _so_ self-conscious that she can't even reach up and scratch it. “Fancy seeing you here.”

He steps into that light and she really _sees_ him – those empty eyes and the hair that's shorter than Mako's now (why does she always have to think of Mako) and a grey coat wrapped around him like armor. He's ugly now, hollowed-out and colored with bruises like rotten fruit all over his skin. 

“Yeah,” she says. “Yeah.” 

It's doesn't make sense, but it makes her feel better to say it. To say anything.

He nods as if it's something meaningful, his hands shaking when he reaches up to scratch his face. The sign above the door reads _Healer of the Spirit_.

Maybe, to him, it is.

-

His apartment is filthy.

There's barely any room to walk and Korra stands just inside the room – it's a studio more than anything, with a bed and a sink and a community bathroom down the hall – and wonders if this is _because_. 

She doesn't know him well enough to tell either way. Even _she_ won't overstep and ask him.

“Water?” he says. She nods even though he's already getting it.

“This is nice,” she says. He snorts. Doesn't say anything back. They both know she's lying.

Korra scratches the back of her neck (finally) and takes a sip of water. It's warm and tastes funny, like when she leaves a cup out all night, but she says thank you.

“If it's worth anything, Tahno, I'm really sorry.” She half-hopes he doesn't hear her.

“Yeah? Me, too.” The words sting even though she's not sure they're supposed to. She sits there at his tiny table with the three mismatched chairs and stares at her hands wrapped around the cup of stagnant water.

“Hey,” he says. _“Hey,_ Korra _._ It's not your fault.” 

“You're not supposed to be making me feel better.” She laughs (it isn't funny) and he does, too. It dies quickly.

“Do you want me to yell at you?” She shrugs. He doesn't look like he has it in him. One of his fingers is making circles in his own cup of water, his eyebrows pinched together. He pulls it out and stares at the beads of water clinging to his skin. 

“If you want to.”

“I don't.” She does. 

There is a pause as Tahno takes off his coat. She wonders about the bruises on his face and neck and arms but doesn't ask. Not now, anyways.

“I can't even – can't _imagine,_ ” she says. There is a tightening around his eyes and she wonders if he'll yell at her after all.

“You don't want to.” He shuts his eyes. Swallows. “I – it's like, it's like my soul has been _taken_ from me. I don't feel the spirits at all anymore. It's just – it's all gone.” It surprises her that he says it. Especially to her.

“I dream about him,” she says. “Sometimes. Amon.” Obviously. She still feels stupid.

Tahno opens his eyes. She wonders at how little she thinks of him. There'd been a point where she'd really wanted him to hurt. He hurts now.

“Yeah?” 

“It scares me. I don't _get_ scared – I don't even – “ 

She stops.

“Yeah,” he says again. “Yeah.”

It sounds like wisdom when it's coming from him.

-

She ends up forgetting the eggs.

“ _Korra,”_ Tenzin snaps, “You were gone for hours!” 

She shrugs. Apologizes again with some excuse about getting lost. Her afternoon with Tahno stays hers, fragile as the memory is. And for that she has no real explanation. 

“It's fine,” Pema says. “She needed some time alone.” She and Tenzin share one of _those_ glances, the sort of look that makes her think they're sometimes the same person – soul mates or something. He quiets.

-

He takes her for walks, sometimes. 

Through the side-streets and over to the water, where he stands knee-deep in it and stares out at the sun. She's barefoot, the sand clumping between her toes and sticking to her skin like sugar and honey. 

They are quiet, usually. She's not used to that, not used to not having something to say. It's sometimes peaceful.  Her mind is restless today.

“Tahno,” she says. He stays where he is. “Where are the bruises from?” Only the stiffening of his back tells her he heard her at all.

There's a moment of silence, and then – 

“Training,” he says. “After – after it happened, I needed to _try_ , at least. To continue the training without the bending. I don't know how to do anything else. I'm not the same, though. I don't _move_ the same way. And I can't even heal the marks away any more.” He pauses. Lets out an unhappy laugh. “They were a lot worse.”

Korra walks into the water until she is next to him, the feeling of it wrapping around her legs akin to that of relief. It's like coming home, almost. There is a pang for her parents at that thought, and a pang for the man in front of her, too.

“Can I heal them?” she asks. The water's already in her hand, molded to her fingers like a glove. 

“I – I – “ He stops. “Yeah.” The look on his face, though. Korra knows that that brokenness will stay with her.

She places her hand on his arm, just below the curve of his shoulder, on the swell of his bicep. His breath leaves him in a shaky stream at the contact. Korra feels odd, like she's not inhabiting her own body. The bruise fades to yellow before disappearing completely.

It takes minimal effort to heal such shallow markings, and as she watches Tahno's face – eyes closed and breath shallow – Korra is stricken with the impact her gift has made on her very existence. 

“I'm done,” she says after a moment. He opens his eyes. 

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“Of course,” she says. She wonders if she did him any real good.

-

“Off doing super-secret _avatar_ stuff again?” It's said playfully, but Korra still feels uneasy when she meets Bolin's eyes. Mako looks up from whatever it is he's reading – something on strategy or technique, she thinks – in barely-hidden interest. There's something else there, too. Korra can't quite put her finger on what it is.

“Yep,” she says, smiling. She can't help but feel bad.

It doesn't stop her from leaving. 

When Mako follows her out through the front door, though, she's forced to stop.

“You lied to him,” he says. It's not accusatory. It's not really anything.

“No, I didn't.” He grabs her arm in an effort to stop her. Korra doesn't shake him off.

“You're lying to me, too.” It's a whisper now.

_“No_ , I'm _not.”_ She can't hide the tremble in her voice. 

He looks at her, studies her face. She can physically _see_ him making a decision, coming to some sort of conclusion.

“Okay,” he finally says, voice soft. “I believe you.” He lets go of her arm.

Korra goes.

-

“You look tired,” he says. The circles under his eyes are black, but Korra shrugs. 

“I am,” she says. They're in his apartment again, her cup from the other day still sitting on the table where she left it. It's disgusting, really, but Korra doesn't mind the mess so much this time.

“It must be _so_ hard, being the _uh_ -vatar,” Tahno whispers. He smiles, self-satisfied.

“Like you wouldn't believe,” she says. He's kidding, she's sure. Teasing her.

Tahno laughs.

“I'm sure I would,” he finally says, still smiling that self-satisfied smile. 

-

It's almost funny, finally turning to see her torch for Mako begin to go out, that steady flame fizzling out like it's nothing. And maybe – maybe it _is_ nothing.

(In a way, she's made the same decision he has.)


End file.
